


Pieces

by Bonster



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Cannibalism, Character Death, F/F, Horror, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slight Suicidal Ideation, Unwilling Arousal, Vaginal Fingering, being stripped, less cunnilingus more eating out, music as mind/body control, the fingers are claws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 10:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21474361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonster/pseuds/Bonster
Summary: Elizabeth Crowther's daily walk is disrupted.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Siren/Woman Walking the Widow's Walk Mourning for Her Husband Lost at Sea
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15
Collections: Naughty List 2019





	Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seinmit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/gifts).

> Thank you [flowersforgraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves) for the look through!

Elizabeth Crowther, widow of David Crowther, began her daily walk.

Their house was close to the cliffside. From her fenced perch, she could easily see the sharp, jagged rocks at the bottom and hear the ocean crashing against them. The sound of the waves, the stiff breeze, the smell of the sea air, all were once balms to her.

Now they choked her, reminded her of her grief.

That dreadful day, a fortnight ago, she had gone down to the port as soon as she had heard the bells that indicated a ship on the horizon. She had crested the hill above the port and remained there stunned. She'd watched in horror as the ship, no one at the helm or on deck, barreled into the rocks at the cliffside. The shredding, popping noises filled the port. Her heart broke further with each desolate sound.

It had been David's ship.

The wreckage was searched, and not a soul was found. Whether it had been pirates, madness, or some other ill, they'd never know.

So she walked, hopeless, and gazed at the horizon.

An hour or so passed when something caught her eye. She looked to the door to her perch. A figure stood there.

Irrational as it was, she thought David had come home. He'd made it! Hope flaring in her chest, she approached the door, had almost opened it, when she fully took in the figure.

It was not David.

The woman--Elizabeth thought it was a woman--was... wrong.

Elizabeth let her arm fall and did not open the door. Her hope was dashed and a fear took her.

What was this strange woman with wings red as a cardinal's doing, standing in their--_her_\--house? Why did her fingers end in claws? Why did her eyes have such swirling depths? Why was she smiling with oh-so-sharp teeth?

The woman-thing opened the door.

Elizabeth backed away to the very edge of her widow walk. The wind, cold, blew a harsh breeze at her back.

They stared at each other, one afraid, one joyous but somehow mocking.

Then the woman began to sing.

A melody fine and delicate played along Elizabeth's skin. She felt it twist around her neck and up into her hair. She felt caressed as she hadn't been since her wedding night. 

Her wedding night... David....

She shook her head, but the music continued, a little more force behind it. Now she felt it wrapping around her ankles and calves and up to her thighs. She let out an exhalation full of _craving_.

Involuntarily, she stepped toward the creature, and it laughed.

The laughter made the music pause, and Elizabeth tried to back away, a scream welling within her. The fencing of the walk wouldn't let her move. She contemplated diving over it to her doom, but suddenly the creature was there in front of her. Its smile was wide, and it bent its head to her ear. It sang.

The tune this time was sensual and slow, a steady, building rhythm. It surrounded Elizabeth, just as the creatures arms now did. It held her close, softly singing into her ear, which it then bit.

As it chewed, the music stopped. The munching, grinding of its teeth and the agony on the side of her head caused her first tears to fall. Looking into the unhelpful, gray sky, Elizabeth begged, "Please, no. Leave me."

Her pleas were unheeded, as the creature pulled just far enough back to meet its eyes to hers. Its mouth was damp with blood that matched the colors of its wings. It picked her up, only to lay her gently down on the walk. The boards were cold beneath her. Its claws began to rake at her dress and petticoats, her underthings. It raked and raked until there was only her skin between the creature and herself. She whimpered and shook her head. She saw strips of her mourning dress dance on the wind. She wished she could join them.

It hummed and kissed her. The music slid down her throat. It choked her in a way even her grief had not. Elizabeth gagged, tried to stop the flow of the stanzas that marched and bulged. She tried, and failed, as the music wasn't corporeal and so did not obey the laws of flesh.

Deadly claws slid down her side and cut hair's width lines. She writhed to get away.

The creature nipped at her lips, but did not take them. The humming stopped as it looked at her.

Elizabeth breathed, gasping at the air. Tears blurred her vision, as she stared into its ocean-gray eyes. "What do you want from me?"

Its claws resume their trek downwards, across her hips, heading to her center. It slid a claw just barely along her slit and opened its mouth, "This."

Elizabeth began to chant, "No. No. No. _Please_ no."

The vile word the monster said split all around her, a slow branching as it encased her. It echoed all around and embraced her as a lover. The branches collided into and around her center. Symphonies and throbbing harmonies pulsed. Every glancing touch brought her closer to a fever she did not want. She did not want this, even as she did.

The monster's claw pressed between her folds, questing and curious, but intent. Elizabeth's shame as her wetness slicked the claw was the worst feeling she had ever felt. She wanted to hide, to run. She was helpless.

The claw found her clit, and Elizabeth was undone. She felt her hips thrust against it. She quickly tried to will them to stay against the boards of the walk. She could not give in to this madness.

The monster sang again. It was _their_ love song, a mockery of the very song she and David had danced to at their wedding. Its familiar tune twisted by the thing that caressed and invaded her.

It used its other hand and put two claws inside of her, all the while still rubbing her clit. She shuddered with pure want, the song buffeting her in its soothing, writhing tendrils. The claws inside her moved back and forth, surprisingly gentle. Its eyes were focused on hers, its song was a seduction.

Elizabeth tried to fight her body, but with the song, that sweet, sweet song, she could only give in. With a cry, she let her hips move, sinking onto the claws. She did not care whether they tore her from the inside, so long as they gave her _more_. The song called for it. The monster's will demanded it. And Elizabeth, her body yearned for it.

Her mind, what was left of it, did not want any part of this, but there was no escape. The song was too powerful, and its hold was like iron.

That very moment, the moment of utter despair and desire, was when the monster punctured her clit, sending waves of pain and deeply unsettling pleasure through her. It then bent to suck at the wound, teeth heedless of the punctured tissue. More claws joined the ones inside her. They moved faster and faster, shredding, ripping, slicing.

Elizabeth cried out to the unrelenting sky, her exultant climax like waves lapping the shore. The shore was her entire being.

The song had stopped when the monster bent its head to her center. The full horror was then upon her. Though her legs were weak, she tried to lift them, to crawl away. Her hoarse voice croaked a plea for help.

The monster lifted its bloody maw. Hunger filled its eyes. It began a soothing melody.

It reminded her of the windchimes at her parent's house. Elizabeth raised a hand to pet its face. Unnatural fondness filled her.

Its claws left her. They were dripping with both blood and come. They slid down her thigh, pressing and cutting. They went deep, but the pain was only comfort to her. The song held her close.

It took the strips of skin and nerves, and altogether unlike the strips of her mourning gown which floated away, it wrapped them around its claws and ate.

And ate.

The song stopped. Her comfort was gone. She screamed, guttural and forlorn. She knew only pain and a vast emptiness.

As the thing took more and more of her, her one hope, though dim, was that she would be reunited with David.

Elizabeth's last vision as her life ebbed was her doom's wings flapping merrily as it took her eyes.


End file.
